I hate making up titles
by HottnessesGirl
Summary: PG story for very mild language, details of healing of wounds, and some kissing :). First person fiction account, alternate ending to Pearl Harbor, begins during the Dolittle Raid after their crash landing in China. Romance between Rafe and a new characte


Pearl Harbor Rewrite I  
  
March 16, 2002  
  
SUMMARY: PG story for very mild language, details of healing of wounds, and some kissing (. First person fiction account, alternate ending to Pearl Harbor, begins during the Dolittle Raid after their crash landing in China. Romance between Rafe and a new character. I've gotta say, I think it's pretty good. Please R&R.  
  
WHO "I" AM: Katie ("me") is a tough gal of 23 who's elbowed her way into the military as both a nurse and a pilot. She's a friend to all the pilots and an overall favorite. Her trademark is carrying a double-barreled pump shot gun. She's one of the best pilots and the best shots in the US army. She's in love with Rafe McCrawley, but she doesn't let on for several reasons (cited near the end). She's on the Dolittle Raid. She's about five foot seven with medium length brown hair which is constantly tied back under a bandanna. She's very pretty.  
  
START: First fire from the first firing between the Americans and the Japanese in China. Danny has not had the shrapnel removed. Anthony isn't dead.  
  
There was the sharp report from a pistol.  
  
"Japs! We're surrounded!" Rafe yelled. He and the rest of the pilots took cover behind the bomber and began firing back furiously in every direction. Once in a while there'd be a dull thud and a scream from each side.  
  
"We're gettin' all busted up!" yelled Gooz as he fired another round into the bushes. Suddenly, he got a sharp clap on the head and he collapsed only half conscious. The other pilots spun around, to find Japs within the group, firing and punching. Danny felt the pain in his neck disapear as the butt of a Japanese gun was slammed into his gut. A fist slammed the side of his head and he felt his neck again. The result of the culminated injures made him dizzy. Someone jerked his arms back and he felt them bound to something hard. Then he was thrown aside. There was shooting going on right over his head but the way he had been thrown had jammed his face into the mud, leaving him blind to the action around him. He heard Rafe yell and Danny furiously tried to rip himself up but was unable to. He was slowly slipping out of consciousness, despite his efforts to hang on. He felt a bullet whiz by his leg and another pain set in there.  
  
Gooz had regained himself and was firing furiously, too. Red was next to him and he could see Rafe ahead of him. They were fighting a losing battle, though – Gooz could see that clearly.  
  
All at once though, there were five or six heavy shots from the bushes. Four of the Japs fell. Three more shots from the bushed felled two others.  
  
"Who i-n-n-n the h-h-hell is that?" yelled Red over the din.  
  
"Who else you know carries a double-barreled shot gun?" Rafe yelled back sounded both grim and happy at once.  
  
"Yah-ha-ha-hoo!" Fusco hollered. The shots from the woods increased and the last three or four Japs disbanded. The Americans fired a round after their retreating backs.  
  
"They'll be back," Gooz said.  
  
"Yeah, no shit," Michael said from behind him.  
  
Gooz didn't hear him though because he had turned suddenly to Rafe, who was yelling,  
  
"Where's Danny?"  
  
I jogged out of the brush, my shotgun hung over my shoulder.  
  
"Katie!" There was a general round of yelling.  
  
"You saved out butts back there!"  
  
"Who we missin'?" I asked tensely.  
  
"Jonathan, Henry, and Mike," Gooz offered.  
  
"Hey, I'm not dead! Right here! You trying to kill me off too soon?" Michael responded.  
  
"Sorry, man –"  
  
"Where's Danny?" Rafe said, sounding panicked.  
  
"Did you check the other side of the B-25?" Anthony asked.  
  
Rafe didn't answer, only ran off. I followed close at his heels, too intent on finding Danny to notice his limp. Danny was lying face down in the mud, his arms strapped behind a wooden plank.  
  
"Danny! Danny!" Rafe screamed." He knelt down and I beside him. He fumbled for his knife and slit the ropes. I gently helped Rafe roll him over. Danny shifted slightly and groaned.  
  
I slid his head into my lap. His eyes were slightly open.  
  
"Katie – Rafe . . .?" his voice trailed off.  
  
"I'm right here, Danny, I'm right here." Danny smiled slightly.  
  
"Good . . . There's – I got somethin' in my neck . . ."  
  
I pulled his collar down, revealing a sharp piece of metal lodged deep inside it.  
  
"Aw, damn . . ." I breathed. "Hang on, buddy, this is going to hurt." As gently as I could, I extracted it.  
  
"Ah!" Danny growled. I could tell it hurt like hell.  
  
"Shh . . . shh. . . hang on, I'm done, hang on . . . " I soothed. While I talked, I investigated the rest of his body as well as I could. He had blood all over one leg. I pulled up his pants leg. It was a graze. A deep graze, but a graze nonetheless and I counted him lucky that he didn't still have a bullet in him. He must have been hurt somewhere else, too – he wouldn't have been showing so much pain, otherwise. He was weak, and I knew we had to get moving. I looked up. Rafe was looking terrified and mesmerized.  
  
"Rafe. Rafe!" He shook his head as if to clear it. "Sweetie, it's gonna be okay, but I need your help. Pick him up and carry him 'round to the other guys. We gotta get moving and find the Chinese." He nodded and lifted Danny up. Danny groaned. I ran around in front of them and gave them a look that told them not to react when Rafe brought Danny around. Then I walked over to Dolittle.  
  
"Well, what do we do, sir?"  
  
"I've sent Anthony out to scout out the Chinese. They can't be far."  
  
"And until then?"  
  
"In the mean time, we're going to move out a few miles. Walker?"  
  
"He's alive, Rafe's bringing him –" I broke off to see Rafe bringing Danny around. He was limping severely and I noticed it now. I hurried over.  
  
"Rafe, you okay?"  
  
"Wha? Yeah, I'm alright . . ." I frowned and protested, but he refused to yield Danny to someone else.  
  
We had barely been walking ten minutes when we heard the first telltale signals of a large approaching group. I sneaked off and returned in a rush.  
  
"It's the Chinese."  
  
"Good," was all Dolittle said. There was obvious relief on the parts of the other pilots.  
  
When we reached the Chinese underground bunker, which was surprisingly large, I had them wheel gurney into a largish closet for Danny while the other pilots camped in a larger room a way's away. I shooed Rafe out and started peeling Danny's clothes and gear off. He'd just regained consciousness and was lying back exhausted looking up at the ceiling. I unbuttoned his shirt and said,  
  
"Danny, baby, you're gonna have to sit up for a minute so I can get your shirt and vest off. He winced and complied. I worked as quickly and gently as possible. He lay back down and I inspected a large and purpling bruise that spread over his stomach where the butt of the gun had been slammed into him. I gently felt over it and decided that it would heal on its own. No wonder Danny had been in so much pain . . . His neck was bleeding freely and besides his leg, that seemed to be it. As if it wasn't bad enough. He was losing a lot of blood and I needed to deal with him quickly.  
  
"Danny, does it hurt badly anywhere besides your neck, leg, and stomach?"  
  
"No," he grunted. I nodded and opened the door to lean out. Rafe was pacing nearby.  
  
"Rafe? Rafe, get me some gauze, alcohol, morphine, ice, some water, LOTS of gauze, Rafe! Hurry!"  
  
Rafe ran down the hall. He was back in ten minutes with everything I'd asked for.  
  
"Thanks," I said, grabbing the supplies and closing the door again.  
  
I gave Danny and shot of morphine and then pressed the gauze against Danny's neck, meanwhile whispering,  
  
"You're goin' 'a be okay."  
  
When the morphine took effect, I cleaned the wound with the alcohol. He yelled still, and I gave him a shot of the whiskey, which he gulped down, then yelled some more. I finished quickly and bandaged his neck.  
  
"Woah, sweetie, woah . . . it's over, you're going to be okay, I'm done with your neck, hold on," I said urgently, soothingly. I wrapped my arms around his shoulders and rocked him, rubbing his back, which he had arched in pain. "It's over."  
  
When the pain subsided, I set to work on his leg, giving him another, smaller dose of morphine before using the alcohol again. Still he yelled. I held him again, talking to him, trying to lessen the pain. I could tell he was furious with himself for showing pain. Men, I thought, internally shaking my head, but understanding.  
  
I iced his bruised stomach and washed his face. I gave him some water and soon the morphine and alcohol and his own exhaustion had lowered him into sleep. I looked at my watch and was surprised to see that I had been in there with him for almost three hours since Rafe had gotten me the supplies. I redid my ponytail and bandanna and opened the door. Rafe was sitting down by the door, his head cradled in his arms and his knees drawn up against him. He looked up when I opened the door, then jumped up. His face was drawn and white, even under a thick layer of soot and grime, and he looked terrified. I realized that I was covered in blood and my face must look grim. I leaned foreword slightly and drew him into a hug. It took him a moment to reciprocate, his arms coming around me stiffly at first, then faster and faster. He buried his face in my neck.  
  
"He's going to be okay. He's all busted up and in a lot of pain, but he's going to be okay. He's asleep."  
  
He pulled back slightly and looked at me.  
  
"He's okay?"  
  
"Not now, but he will be. He'll be fine, I promise, as long as nothing more goes wrong."  
  
"Oh, god . . ." Rafe looked miserable still.  
  
"Hey, hey, why the long face? He's going to be okay!" I asked.  
  
"I shouldn'ta let him go –"  
  
"Rafe, you couldn't have stopped him. He's going to be okay and we needed him. It was the right thing for him to come." I smiled at him gently. "You can't look after him all the time. He's a man, he can take care of himself – most of the time." The last line was meant to be a joke but Rafe wasn't in the mood. He was still worried about Danny and beating himself up over it.  
  
"You look awful," I said. "Come on, let's go get you cleaned up and something to eat."  
  
He nodded dully and allowed me to lead him towards the mess hall, which I'd scoped out when they were wheeling Danny in. His limp was even more prominent. None of the other pilots were in there. I stuck my head in the kitchen and got something for Rafe and me. I gulped mine down, but he barely touched his. I could tell he was all wrenched inside and beaten up.  
  
"Come on," I said gently. "Let's go get you cleaned up." He shrugged and followed me. I led him into a large washroom with multiple sinks and a couple of showers. I grabbed a washcloth that was lying on a sink and wetted it. I began to gently scrub his face. It must have startled him, because he started slightly and looked at me.  
  
"He's going to be fine," I reassured him.  
  
He reached out a hand and put it over mind, close to his face and turned it into the cup of our wrists. I was watching him tenderly and he surprised me by putting his lips against my thumb. He pulled me to him and we embraced. He was holding me and I felt none of his weight besides that of his head over my shoulder, yet I felt as if I was keeping him standing. We stood that way for almost ten minutes, before a retracted slightly and said,  
  
"Rafe, let me have a look at your leg."  
  
"Sure," he said, sitting down on the metal floor and leaning against the wall between two sinks. I pulled up his pants leg and looked at it. He had a graze almost identical to Danny's, except on the inside of his leg.  
  
"Stay here," I said, and walked briskly to Danny's room to pick up some extra gauze. I checked on him; he was still sleeping soundly. He muttered something about Evelyn. I grabbed the gauze and the alcohol, as well as the whiskey bottle, and returned to Rafe. I administered to him in the same way I had to Danny, gently, carefully. He barely winced as I used the alcohol. It seemed like he wasn't even there. He didn't even hear me when I said,  
  
"There. All done." He just stared at the wall.  
  
"Rafe. Rafe, look at me." He looked at me at last with eyes that looked pained and wrenched and guilty.  
  
"Rafe, this wasn't your fault at all. And Danny is going to be fine. Stop beating yourself up."  
  
"Yeah, but –"  
  
"There is no 'but'. That's all there is to it."  
  
He nodded slightly and we hugged again. He surprised me again when he kissed me, a long, gentle, hungry kiss that made it seem like he was drawing up my soul. It sent me all a-flutter in a way I had never felt before. I had been in love before, and the love had been reciprocated, but never had I been kissed like this. I had known for a while that I was in love with Rafe, but I was also great friends with him and I hadn't wanted to spoil it in light of Evelyn and if the love wasn't requited, I didn't want to ruin our easy friendship. I realized I had to ask Rafe something. I pulled back slightly.  
  
"Rafe," I whispered. He opened his eyes and looked at me.  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"Rafe, if we're going to do this, I need to know something. Are you doing this because Danny's okay, because you can't have Evelyn? And if you could, who would you choose?"  
  
He looked at me, long and hard, yet he wasn't really seeing. He was inside of himself, thinking. I was glad he was truly considering. I waited patiently for his answer, praying, though my face betrayed nothing.  
  
"I want to be with you." His voice was steady, sure. I knew he was telling the truth, and I leaned foreward and relaxed into his arms, kissing him. I knew, suddenly, that everything was going to be okay.  
  
The End 


End file.
